To Quote Hemingway - Sex Stories

To Quote Hemingway

Viagra? Cialis? Or perhaps you think the centuries old standby Rhino horn is the world’s top aphrodisiac? Nope. It’s plain old money: dirty filthy lucre. Nothing is a more powerful stimulant of the libido than the glitter of gold and the smell of a newly minted stack of Benjamins. ___________________________________________________________________ “Come here. Let’s show my husband this massive weapon. After all he’s paying for it.” Patricia tugged on Robbie’s leash drawing him away from the massive bed where minutes before they had been rutting madly. The blonde Anja lay exhausted on the soft Italian sheets wearing only a smile. Her orgasms had seemingly sated her twenty-year-old body. The stiff new studded leather collar dug into the young man’s neck as the lithe brunette beauty tugged him forward. Robbie licked his lips. His mouth was parched. Too much Krug Champagne he guessed. The twenty-year-old college athlete tried to recall how only a few weeks ago he had never even tasted real Champagne, let alone vintage Krug. Young Robbie stood muscular and naked shuffling forward. His nine-inch cock curved out impressively from his toned ridged abdomen. The huge cock gleamed coated by the viscous juices of the tight wet pussy it had only moments ago been pounding. The powerfully built athlete looked towards Dave Potter, the man he used to caddy for at the exclusive golf club. The older executive was standing slightly stooped behind the chrome bars in the corner. His sexy trophy ...

... wife Patricia lovingly referred to the strange chrome bars and restraint apparatus as her husband’s “cage”. Handsome young Robbie had needed to caddy for the wealthy investor as a part time job to pay for college. Back then a hundred dollar tip from one of his super-rich golfers had seemed like his dream. Now young Robbie’s dreams had expanded their horizons considerably. The young man realized of course it had all been a ruse. Dave Potter had hired him ostensibly to “take care of his car collection”. Well soon enough Robbie had been polishing more than Dave Potter’s prized 1960 Mercedes-Benz 190SL. Other things around the billionaire’s gated enclave required attention. When Mr Potter’s thirty-year-old trophy wife Patricia had laid her eyes on the young man she had staked her claim. Robbie had an underwear model’s body. Patty was a woman who didn’t even attempt to restrain her base impulses. The wealthy couple had soon “groomed” handsome young Robbie to become Patty’s “pet”. They had plied him with gifts, money and flattery. Oh yes and more money. The money had done the trick. The sexy trophy wife could apparently have whatever money could buy. Robbie was now her new pet. David Potter was one of the richest tech investors in the world. He was part of the one per cent of the one per cent now referred to as the “über rich”. The concept of “you can’t afford that” did not exist for David and even less so for his sexy much younger wife. In the rarefied world they inhabited even the ...